It seems we are in luck. All the other tributes - the ones not already dead - are either still struggling with the quicksand or have disappeared into the jungle. Leaving behind all these supplies, and allowing everything (especially the food!) to be swallowed by the sand, feels like a huge waste, but there's nothing we can do about it. At least nobody else could have gathered many supplies either. What a cruel trick, placing such rich prizes before us only to yank them out from right under us. I am sure somewhere out there the Gamemakers are having a good laugh at our expense.
I have nothing to show for except the knife, but Caesar has scored a smallish backpack and a brown sack that looks like it contains food. I don't see any weapons on him, though. We jog through the forest for about ten minutes and then stop to catch our breath and get our bearings. My companion has gone beet red in the face, and I too feel like I've been in an oven. We are out of the direct sunlight now, shielded by the lush green canopy of the jungle, but the air still is unbearably hot and humid. I pull off my jacket and tie it around my waist. The T-shirt I'm wearing underneath dries almost instantly. It must be made from some special material.
The other boy has kept a little distance and is eying me, like he is pondering whether or not to trust me. He looks thirteen or fourteen and is almost the same height as me, but I am almost sixteen and quite a bit leaner and stronger. And I am still far from athletic.
I indicate the bags lying at his feet.
"If we are going to stick together we should pool our resources, Moonf- uhh..." That ugly name just slipped out of me.
"Caesar," he corrects evenly. "Please call me Caesar."
"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"It's okay. Really."
He genuinely doesn't seem offended, but I feel really bad anyway. The other tributes always called him Moonface, and I knew it wasn't nice but the nickname must have gotten stuck in my head. I overheard a few of the careers saying some horrible things to him, like what a fat pig he was, and how they were going to cook him for dinner. I can only imagine what that must have felt like. Of course, the Gamemakers would never actually allow cannibalism, though there is a good reason why we call this horrible tradition the Hunger Games. In the arena, hunger can be as dangerous a weapon as a sword, and every year tributes die of starvation or dehydration.
Perhaps sensing my discomfort, Caesar kneels and starts to open his bags.
"Tell you the truth, I haven't had the chance to check what exactly is in here. Let's see..."
He unpacks a loaf of rich dark bread, five apples, some dried meat, and a large bag of nuts and dried berries. This will last us a day or two, we will definitely have to look for food in the jungle. But first, we need to find water. I must have lost at least a gallon of water already through perspiration.
The other, smaller pack contains a light tarp, a bit of string, a flashlight, an empty water canteen, and water purifying tablets. There is also a small notepad and a pencil. This is very unusual. Neither of us can figure out how stationery might be essential for our survival in the arena. But we decide to hold on to the stuff for now.
I feel bad because I don't have anything to add to the pool of supplies except the knife, but I need his food, and Caesar graciously points out he is relying on me for protection since he didn't get any weapon of his own. Still, we both know he is taking the greater risk by trusting me not to murder him and take all of his food.
We talk about where to go next, and quickly agree we should move farther away from the Cornucopia and look for water, so we set off again at a brisk pace. After about half an hour of dense jungle, we come across a clearing. In the middle of the clearing looms a massive structure. This must have been what I saw from the Cornucopia.
"Magnificent," Caesar whispers.
It is a huge pyramid, at least 200 feet high, with steps leading up the sides. The dark gray rock looks worn and is covered with lichen. I think of an ancient Mayan temple, although I know full well this was created very recently and artificially aged to look this way. Nevertheless, it is impressive.
We do not dare leave the cover of the trees to go any closer, but make our way around the side of the pyramid in a wide arc instead. On the far side we make out what might be an entrance, but as far as we can tell from here it is completely walled up. I would love to explore further, and to see what is on the other side of the temple, but I am nervous about even being here because it is such an obvious landmark. Before long this area is surely going to be swarming with tributes. I think our best chance is to do go the opposite way as everyone else, which means to get as much ground between the temple and us as possible.
As if to answer my thoughts, the cannons go off to indicate all the tributes that have died so far. This means that the initial fighting at the Cornucopia is over. I count three booms, one for the boy who blew himself up, one for the girl I saw being bludgeoned, plus one more unknown child to mourn. Tonight, when the evening announcement is broadcast, we will learn their identities. Three are comparatively few deaths for the first day, but I guess the quicksand hampered everybody. Maybe this had even been Gamemakers' intention, to avoid losing too many tributes right at the beginning of the Games, so as to ensure more suspense for their viewers later-on.
All of a sudden, there is a sound of rushing water and we find ourselves in a downpour that is so strong it feels like the world is coming to an end. I quickly pull my jacket up over my head, but I am still soaked to the skin in a matter of seconds. So in the end I give up and allow the thick drops pelt onto my head and shoulders, letting them wash the blood off my clothes and the sweat off my skin. The rain is cool and a welcome relief from the oppressive heat. I open my mouth and drink eagerly, and my companion copies me. Caesar has the presence of mind to take out his plastic container and set it on the ground, and by the time the rain stops it is almost half-way full with fresh, pure rainwater.
#
Thus refreshed, we head in what I figure must be a south-western direction and keep going for at least an hour, until we feel it's safe enough to stop for a rest and share a meager lunch of bread and dried meat. We try to save most of the food for later, but both of us are still so hungry we each end up having a couple of apples as well.
It feel really good to rest on the soft, cool moss and to breathe in the rich scents of the earth, mixed with exotic flowers. I close my eyes and lie completely still for several minutes, just listening to the various bird calls. These last few weeks have gone by so quickly that they are just a blur in my memory now. The Reaping, bidding my family farewell, the trip to the Capitol, the training. Ironically, for the first time since all this started, I can enjoy a moment of peace.
It must be late afternoon by now, and the light is beginning to take on an orange tint. The heat is also finally starting to subside. We talk about finding shelter for the night, and agree to keep heading outwards, away from the pyramid and towards the mountains. That way, we can put our backs against the steep cliff. If we are lucky, we might even find a cave to spend the night. I wonder how cold the nights will be in the arena, and what sorts of animals or other dangers might be lurking in the jungle. Building a fire is out of the question of course, even if we had dry wood and a means to light it, it would attract too much attention.
When I start to get up, I discover to my surprise that my ankles are tied together. What appear to be long vines are wrapping themselves around my boots like green ropes. Each one is as thick as a finger, and they are moving a lot faster than plants should be able to. As I try to shake them off, more vines appear out of nowhere, reaching for my arms and wrapping themselves around my upper body. They are scaly and cool to the touch, like reptile skin. I can't see Caesar anywhere. I want to scream but only manage a feeble croak because the vines have squeezed all the air from my lungs.
Then Caesar is by my side. He snatches the knife from my belt and deftly slashes away at the vines. But for each one he severs, another half dozen appear and threaten to envelop him, too. I continue to thrash around, desperately gasping for breath. Just as I think I am about to black out, Caesar leaps into the bushes behind me and disappears. For a brief, horrible moment, I'm convinced he has abandoned me, but then all of a sudden the vines go limp all at once and I can breathe again. Caesar reappears, scratched all over and panting heavily, the knife in his hand dripping with some kind of yellow goo.
"What did you do?" I ask as soon as I catch my breath.
"The root," he replies. "I found the root and stabbed it till it... stopped."
I know he was about to say, "till it was dead." Something is wrong here. That a plant would move like that, and could be killed in this way... This must be a muttation, a plant-animal hybrid in this case, genetically engineered in the Capitol to spice up the vegetation in the arena. No wonder the vines reminded me so much of a reptile, they probably added some snake DNA to the mix. I try not to imagine what other dangers this jungle might hold in store for us. In addition to all the other tributes trying to murder us, of course.
After wiping the blade clean on some leaves, Caesar returns the knife to me, like it was no big deal, what he just did for me.
"We should keep an eye out for these plants. You can identify them by these white blossoms, see?"
He points at a bunch of tiny, snow-white buds. Very unremarkable, almost too inconspicuous amidst all the other tropical plants with their large and lavishly colored blossoms. I resolve to pay more attention to my surroundings, even if they appear to be inanimate.
"This is the second time you have saved my life," I observe.
The other boy gives me a half-smile.
"Don't mention it."
Then, after a moment he adds, more quietly, "I guess nobody would have thought that someone like me could ever be this useful, huh?"
"Useful? Are you kidding?! You keep a level head and are the strongest and best ally I ever could have hoped for. If it hadn't been for you, I would have been dead twice already. And the first day of the Games isn't even over yet. If there is a useless person on this team, it's me, for sure."
This seems to genuinely cheer him up, and as we pick up our few belongings and get moving again, I notice he is holding himself more erectly than before. And in this moment, I know that whatever happens, I'm glad we are friends.
